


The End is a Great Place to Start

by A_diantum, mindabbles



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Wolfstar Big Bang 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 14:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19007809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_diantum/pseuds/A_diantum, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mindabbles/pseuds/mindabbles
Summary: It's the end of one thing and, if Sirius has anything to say about it, it will be the beginning of another.





	The End is a Great Place to Start

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the mods for running this wonderful fest. Thank you to A_diantum for being a great partner and the lovely art work. Thank you so very much to museinabsentia for the super quick beta. This is a simple, hopefully sweet, little story when they are on the verge of everything changing. Hope you enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> A_diantum: Thank you min for working with me! And to the moderators who organized the 2019 wolfstar Big Bang, and also to you for reading this story! I had a wonderful time with the fest :)

Sirius can’t help but remark that Remus is an inconsiderate thing. He’s stretched out on his bed, bare feet dangling off the edge. From his vantage point on his own bed, Sirius can see each bone in Remus’ long foot and the way the little toe he broke last summer doesn’t quite line up with the others. He can see the bones of Remus’ ankle sticking out of his trouser leg and imagine how soft the skin there must be. Sirius doesn’t have a foot fetish, he’s sure of it. It’s more that he has a Remus-fetish and he cannot believe that Moony doesn’t know, because Moony is very clever. So, lying about flaunting his bare feet and his soft, pale ankle skin can only mean that Moony is a cruel and inconsiderate thing. 

Sirius is supposed to be revising for his last exam ever, and while Sirius doesn’t need to revise for a Transfiguration exam, strictly speaking, they’ve all agreed to put on a good show of revising so that Peter can get at least an Acceptable. And Sirius is on the verge of telling Remus what he thinks of all his bare foot skin when Peter groans. 

“Need help, Wormtail?” Remus asks. He turns his head to look over at Peter. The movement makes Remus’ body curve and now Sirius has a perfect view of his arse, and that’s really the limit. 

“Sandwiches,” Sirius says, leaping off his bed. 

“Um, yeah, Moony, I do,” Peter said, as if Sirius had said nothing at all. Remus shakes his head as if Sirius had said something nonsensical, and while that was patently unfair of him, the little line he gets between his eyebrows and the way his fringe feathers across his forehead make Sirius want to kiss him, so he can’t muster the will to be annoyed. 

Sirius is suddenly ravenous. “Sandwiches. What we need here are sandwiches.” And he leaves the room without looking back. 

“All right,” he hears Peter say as he jogs down the spiral staircase. He hears footsteps behind him and, for a moment, he thinks Remus is following. But it sounds like an Erumpent, so he’s sure it’s James. Moony is much more fleet of foot. 

“You know,” Sirius says when they reach the bottom of the stairs. “I’d imagine that a deer would have a lighter step.” 

“Have you been hit on the head?” James asks. “You’re cracking, even for you.” 

“Do you think Moony knew he was torturing me?” 

“I think he thought you’d been Confunded.” James stops and puts a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “Padfoot, no jokes. You have to get a grip or you have to tell him.” 

“Sandwiches,” says Sirius, which, from the look on James’ face, he doesn’t think is an answer.

When they arrive at the kitchen, Sirius realises he’s lost his appetite. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

“You’ve gone round the twist,” says James and he pushes open the kitchen door and several hopeful faces turn to them. James glances back at Sirius. “You can’t deprive them of one last chance to make Mr Sirius and Mr James a snack. More importantly, what kind of deviant doesn’t want a sandwich when he can have one?” 

“Moony likes sandwiches.” 

“Yes, well, he’s clever that way,” James says, giving Sirius what can only be described as a pitying look, which doesn’t make any sense at all. 

They leave the kitchens with many thanks from the Elves for their patronage and a heaping tray of cheese and tomato sandwiches slathered thickly with fresh butter. 

Back in the dormitory, Peter and Remus are lying side by side on Peter’s bed, heads bent close while Remus explains something he’s pointing out on the parchment that’s spread across Peter’s blanket. They are so close that Remus’ fringe brushes Peter’s.

“Sandwiches,” Sirius says, holding the tray in front of him. Remus looks up and smiles at him and the itchy, irritable, uncomfortable feeling that feels almost like hunger dissipates as suddenly as it came. 

“Ta, Padfoot,” Remus says, taking one. He takes a big, hungry bite and makes a little _mmmmm_ ing sound. “The Elves have outdone themselves this time,” he says, his lips glistening with butter. Sirius can imagine that kissing those lips would be slick and taste sweet. 

Sandwiches were supposed to help. That itchy, hungry, off-kilter feeling is back and Sirius doesn’t know what to do with his hands. His fingers ache to touch Remus. 

“Well, lads, I’m off,” James says. He’s looking in the mirror, making a useless attempt to tame his hair. 

“Give it up,” Sirius says. “If Lily doesn’t appreciate the mad hedgehog look, you’re sunk. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Peter says. “You look brilliant.” 

“For Merlin’s sake,” Remus says. “Don’t make his head any bigger. We have to revise. Come here, Padfoot. Maybe you can explain Gamp’s Law to him in a different way than I seem to be able to. I’d like to finish in time to go down to the common room. Dorcas is meant to be teaching the first years to turn their teapots into tabby cats instead of mice before their Transfiguration exam. I said I’d help her. One last gift for Professor McGonagall.”

And that, right there, is the bloody brilliance of Moony. 

“To the rescue,” Sirius says, loping across the room in two strides. Peter and Remus shift so Remus can join them on Peter’s bed and Sirius is visited by an impulse to crawl across the bed and over Remus, kiss him, and press their bodies together. He stops himself to take a breath. 

In the past, he would have leapt onto the bed with no regard for where he landed, and he can see that both Remus and Peter flinch, bracing themselves for just that. Instead, he carefully settles himself between Peter and Remus, closer to Remus but not quite touching. 

“Gamp’s law is really more about the exceptions than the actual law,” Sirius says. “If you memorize the exceptions, you should be fine.” 

Peter scribbles notes on his parchment and Sirius steals looks at Remus’ still-bare feet and ankles. 

“You all right?” Remus asks. He punches Sirius lightly on the shoulder. “Only you seem off.” 

“I’m fine, Moony,” Sirius says, feeling a sinking feeling that James is right. He’s going to have to get a grip or he’s going to have to tell Remus how he feels.

*******

Students spill out onto the grassy swells of the grounds, down the slope toward the lake and the edges of the forest. The younger ones with their school robes billowing behind them — open and loose in as much of a flouting of the school dress code as they dare. The sixth and seventh years are in shirt sleeves and open collars. Sirius turns his face to the sun and feels a thrill of anticipation. They’ll leave school, and have to deal with all of what that means in these interesting times. But he’s not going to worry about that now. They’ve several days of freedom, with no responsibilities and no exams, and one last full moon night tomorrow for adventures in the forest. 

Remus gets to their tree first. It’s a most perfect tree, and Sirius is pretty sure he’ll miss this tree as much as anything when they leave here. Because Remus got there first, he has the prime spot with the sturdy trunk to lean against and the view of the lake and the slope where other students have flopped down in groups. Sirius takes the spot next to Remus and their shoulders and arms brush as Sirius slides down next to him. James and Lily drop onto the grass next to each other and Lily casually takes James’ hand. Sirius tries to imagine being able to do such a simple thing and he glances at Remus, surprised to find that Remus is looking right at him. Remus smiles sheepishly, like he’s been caught out at something and looks away. It’s a bit too much in his current state — all this closeness to Remus and his smile and _maybe_ he was looking at Sirius the same way Sirius was looking at him. So Sirius leaps up and takes up a perch on a lower branch. From here, he still has a perfect view of Moony, but he doesn’t have to sit on his hands to keep from touching him. 

“We should pull off one last prank,” Peter says. “Something that would put our names in the record books for all time.”

“I think they already are,” James says. “Not that I’m against the idea, mind.” 

“And here I thought you’d grown out of your need for negative attention,” says Lily, but she leans her head on James’ shoulder. Sirius is probably imagining it, but he’d swear that Remus glances from the lovebirds to Sirius and sighs. He’s definitely going mad. 

“Oh, nothing too awful, Lily,” Peter says quickly. Peter’s terrified that James is going to throw them over for Lily and has decided that his best strategy is to ingratiate himself to her. Sirius has told him and told him that James would never toss his friends aside, and pointed out that Lily seems for some reason to have chosen them as her clan, warts and all. He’ll admit that he’s glad she has chosen them, and James is so happy it’s sickening. 

“Something celebratory,” Remus says and Peter shoots him a grateful look. 

“Something that will take Filch months to clean up,” Sirius says and Remus laughs, turning to flash Sirius a delighted smile that makes Sirius feel warm inside. 

Remus pulls a piece of parchment and quill from his school bag and from where Sirius is sitting, he can see that Remus writes, ‘Dear Dad.’ Sirius has several feelings at once — something that’s happening with alarming frequency around Moony lately. He’s glad for Remus and he’s envious at the same time that Remus has a father to whom he’d like to write a letter. He also wonders how Mr Lupin would take Moony bringing Sirius home to dinner and introducing him as his boyfriend. And, his heart sinks a bit at the thought that Remus will definitely not take Sirius up on his offer to move into his flat if he’s writing to his dad a few days before he’ll be home. 

“You taking down ideas, Moony?” James asks. “Because I have a few.” 

“Writing to my dad,” Remus says. He touches the tip of his quill to his lips. Sirius watches as Remus’ lips part and his face softens in concentration. In class, around students from other houses, Remus’ expressions have a fairly limited range. He’s not aloof exactly — he’s friendly and gets on with everyone except Snivellus. Sirius is fairly certain you have to have a personality disorder not to get on with Remus. But, he doesn’t laugh as hard, show as much anger or excitement, or even relax into this peaceful sense of concentration, like he is now, unless he’s around the three of them, and now Lily.

“Padfoot,” James says. “You’re grinning like a lunatic.” Sirius looks away from Remus in time to see James roll his eyes. “Do you have an idea for the prank, then?” 

It’s only then that Sirius realizes that Remus is blushing ever so slightly. 

“Bugger,” Peter snaps, sitting up as if someone had poked him in the arse with their wand. 

Remus frowns. “What?”

“That last question on the exam. What did you get?” 

“For how to force someone out of an Animagus transfiguration?” Remus asks, speaking slowly. He blinks and tilts his head.

“You’re joking, right?” Sirius asks.

Peter shakes his head and turns pink. He looks at James for moral support, or perhaps simply to answer his question. James and Lily are too involved in a conversation about meeting her parents for James to notice Peter’s silent plea for help or to bother telling Sirius and Remus not to take the piss out of Peter. 

“Er, the Untransfiguration Spell, Wormtail. _Reparifarge_. It can pull a person out of the transformation, but if they are really an animal, it won’t harm them. Dead useful when Padfoot is begging for a crust of my sandwich,” Remus says. “Did you really not know that?” 

“You can both stop asking if I know,” Peter says, crossing his arms. “Of course I bloody know. I only wanted to check if I wrote it out right.” 

Peter gives up in a huff and lies down in the grass. He looks so exhausted that Sirius thinks he might fall asleep. Peter will ignore them for a bit in retaliation. James and Lily are in their own little world. Sirius is getting that itchy feeling that’s been with him whenever he sits still and Remus is nearby. One solution he’s found is not to sit still. Another is bouncing around in his head and he knows he’s to do something or go mad. He jumps off his perch and starts off down the sloping lawn. 

“Moony, come here,” Sirius calls back over his shoulder. “I want to ask you something.” Sirius has no idea what he’ll say if Remus asks what’s so important that he has to lose his spot against the tree over it. “Show you something.” 

Remus looks up from his letter writing. He squints against the bright sunlight. “Which is it? Ask me something or show me something?” Sirius holds his breath as Remus hesitates. James is still too caught up in something Lily is saying to notice and Peter is too wrecked from exams, dozing a bit in the sun. Sirius can breathe again when Remus unfolds his legs and springs to standing, jogging to catch Sirius up. 

Sirius smiles and his heart beats faster when Remus smiles back and strides, step for step, next to Sirius. “Over here,” Sirius says, stepping behind a tree on the edge of the forest. The tree is so tall it must be over five-hundred years old. As soon as they move into the shadow of the forest, sounds are muted by the soft forest floor and the temperature drops several degrees. Sirius can feel the forest welcome them. 

Remus turns and one narrow shaft of light falls across his face. He looks a little shy — an expression Sirius hasn’t seen on his face since they were eleven. “So, what did you want to ask-show me?”

“I think you know,” Sirius says, hoping with every fibre of his being that Remus does indeed know.

“If I know, then you don’t have to ask me,” says Remus. 

Sirius stops himself from saying that if Remus knows, Sirius should show him, because as much as he’d like to continue this back and forth, that would be soppier that Sirius could stand. Besides, Sirius reckons, he’s known as a man of action and it’s time to get past the talking. He presses the palm of his hand against Remus’ cheek.

Remus’ eyes widen, but he doesn’t flinch. 

“If you don’t want this, stop me,” Sirius says. He leans closer just in case Remus is being thick and hasn’t sussed out what’s coming. 

“Stop me,” Remus says.

Sirius would say of himself that he’s normally very clever and he’s normally very tuned in to everything Moony, but he honestly didn’t see that coming, and so the outcome is that when Remus presses his lips to Sirius’, Sirius’ mouth is hanging open like a cod fish. 

“Moony,” Sirius says in delighted surprise and no one could say he didn’t recover himself quickly as he gets to the business of kissing Moony back properly, as Moony deserves to be kissed. 

Another thing he didn’t see coming — and in retrospect, he really should have as Remus doesn’t do things by halves once he’s made up his mind — is the raw enthusiasm Remus puts into the kiss. It’s a simple connection of lips, a sharing of breath, and simple as it is, Sirius has a feeling that everything has changed in these moments. 

Remus presses him against the tree and Sirius lets his hands run down Remus’ back. He’s hard and his cock is straining for connection with Remus’ body. He arches back against the tree, for some reason not ready yet for Remus to feel how Sirius’ body responds to just a kiss from him. 

“Sirius,” Remus whispers, leaning in and rocking his hips against Sirius. “Me too,” he says and he’s as hard as Sirius. 

It’s almost too much, the pressure and the heat and the need to get closer and closer. Remus fits against him perfectly and they move together as Sirius slides his tongue along Remus’. He wants to rip their clothes off and feel Remus’ hot skin against his. He wants more, more friction, more Remus. He needs to come and Remus is moaning softly as his kisses become messy. 

Sirius is about to ask Remus what he wants, beg to drop to his knees and take Remus in his mouth, ask Remus to touch him with his bare skin, when he hears voices that might be calling their names. 

“Fuck,” Remus says, pulling away from Sirius as if he’s struggling against gravity. “We’d better go back before they come looking for us.”

“Don’t want to,” says Sirius, pulling Remus back. He’s not sure he can walk anyway. His legs have turned to jelly. He traces Remus’ lips with the tip of his tongue and Remus sighs. Maybe they can run into the forest and hide for the rest of the afternoon. Then he hears James calling them. James won’t give up — with all of the rumblings of a group called Death Eaters and the increasingly nefarious nature of their nemesis’ pranks, James won’t give up if he doesn’t know where they are. “Fuck. Later,” Sirius says, pressing one more kiss to Remus’ mouth.

“Yeah,” Remus says laughing even as he presses a hand hard against his groin and winces. “Fuck later.” 

Sirius is a little shocked. Thrilled, but shocked. They’ve kissed twice and Remus is already talking like that? “Not helping,” he says, bending over and taking deep breaths as he thinks about being stuck at a Black family holiday dinner. 

*******

“Where’re Prongs and Wormtail?” Remus asks as he’s stashing the bag where he’ll soon neatly fold his clothes. It also has a vial of pain potion and a thermos with hot chocolate. The pain potion is necessary after the transformation. The hot chocolate is just nice. 

Sirius steps closer to Remus. He can feel the nervous energy rolling off Remus in waves. “I came alone,” says Sirius. He feels one, very small, probably insignificant, wave of doubt that he even remembers what happened against that tree properly. 

Remus turns away from him. Sirius would say he’s looking out of the windows, but they’re so coated with dust that looking _at_ them is the only possibility. He doesn’t need to see the sky to know where the moon is in its ascent anyway. Remus waits too long to say anything. 

“Please don’t be angry with me, please don’t hate me,” Sirius says quickly, hardly recognizing the plaintive tone in his voice. 

“I could never hate you, Sirius,” says Remus. He turns and glances at Sirius and at least he’s looking at him. “Can we? It’s only — this isn’t what people do, is it?” 

“Oh,” Sirius says. He knows Remus well enough to see what’s happening. The only people whose opinion Sirius cares about will be running about in the forest with him in a few hours. Remus cares about his family, and Dumbledore, and the teachers, and Remus has to care in a different way than Sirius does because he already has a secret. “But even so, does it make you happy?” Sirius risks reaching out to touch the back of Remus’ hand. 

Remus closes his eyes and turns his hand to hold Sirius’. Sirius feels his heartbeat in the places where their fingers twine together. “It’s not what people do, but it’s what I want.” 

“I’m going to stay with you tonight,” Sirius says. Remus rolls his eyes and Sirius squeezes his hand. “I’ll be there when you’re Remus again. I’ll be with you.” 

“I can take care of myself,” Remus says. “You should go back to your bed and get some sleep as usual. Things don’t have to be different.”

Sirius pushes away a very small wave of hurt that Remus could think for one second that everything isn’t different. “You seem to be labouring under the delusion that I’m suggesting this for your benefit. It’s purely selfish, I assure you.” 

“Idiot,” Remus says and Sirius knows they’re going to be all right. 

“It is,” Sirius says because he never did know when to shut up and because he wants Moony to know that he means it. “I like myself better when I’m with you.”

“Oh, Sirius,” says Remus. “You giant sap.”

“I want to kiss you again,” Sirius says because he does want to and because he wants Remus to have something nice to think about while he’s waiting for the moon to take control of his body. 

“Yes.” 

Sirius slides his fingers through Remus’ hair. It’s soft and cool between his fingers. “Yeah,” he murmurs as his lips touch Remus’. He can never go back. He parts his lips and nearly turns to liquid when Remus tongue touches his. He can never, ever _not_ kiss Remus now that he has. 

Remus angles his head and deepens the kiss. His hands slide to curve around Sirius’ arse and Sirius yields to him, lets his body melt against Remus’. Remus pulls back from the kiss and lets his head fall onto Sirius’ shoulder and Sirius can feel his gentle puffs of breath against his neck. Remus starts to pull back and Sirius grabs him, holding him close for one more moment. 

“You have to go,” Remus says, turning away from Sirius. Sirius doesn’t want to go. He’d like to help Remus through this next hour, if only to be here with him. Remus has never allowed them to witness the change, and honestly, Sirius isn’t certain he would know what to do with himself, not being able to take this pain away from Remus. 

“Moony,” Sirius says, the name soft and smooth on his tongue. “I wish I could…”

“Shut up, Sirius,” Remus says and he grabs the front of Sirius’ robe and pulls him to him again.

Remus’ presses a gentle kiss to Sirius’ lips. It’s slow and deep and so, so sweet. Sirius pulls back and touches the back of his hand to his mouth. He knows he does need to go, and if he doesn’t move now, he’ll grab Remus and tumble him onto the mattress they’ve arranged for Remus to rest on in the morning. 

“I’ll be back,” Sirius says and his eyes dart to the mattress. Remus’ glance follows Sirius’ and he smiles.

“See you soon, Padfoot,” he says. “Here what did you say to get Peter and James not to come?”

“That I wanted to test out whether I’d be getting into your pants later. I’ll be sure to report back that my experiment looks to be a success.”

“Arse.” 

What he doesn’t tell Remus is that he’s almost certain James suspects why he wanted to see Remus alone, and as always, one word from James was enough for Peter. They’ll deal with that another time. 

Sirius runs down the tunnel to the Whomping Willow. He waited until the absolute last minute. He can hear restless pacing on the creaky floorboards and something between a wolf’s howl and Remus crying out as he leaves the tunnel. He pauses and he would turn back at that sound if it didn’t mean he’d lose the trust he’d worked so hard to regain over the last year or so. 

The night is cool and bright. The moon illuminates the grounds in a silvery glow. Peter and James will be waiting by the huge fir tree at the edge of the forest but Sirius pauses to breathe the cool air in deeply. He wants to savour the memory of Remus’ lips on his and the other two can wait two more minutes. 

Sirius starts toward the forest. The light is fading and he breaks into a jog. He can see only one shape waiting at the tree and unless Lily hexed one of them, James and Peter have transformed. Peter hates waiting around in his rat form — says he’s always sure an owl is going to swoop in from above — and he’s probably hunched between Prongs’ front hooves. 

Sirius takes a breath and lets the feeling of becoming Padfoot flow through him. Sharper hearing and smell compensate for the poorer eyesight in the twilight and he can feel the coming night and the magnetism of the full moon in a way his human form cannot. He feels calmer and more restless at once, and all he wants is his playmates and to run and run.

He trots to meet the stag and the rat and sniffs at them both in greeting. The stag lifts his head, ears twitching at the same moment as Padfoot hears the deep thud of the wolf’s paws on the ground. He feels the light, tickling of the rat’s feet as Wormtail scurries up and takes a position on his back, and they’re off. 

They run straight into the forest. Remus read last week about a pond in the dead centre of the forest where it was once rumoured that the strain of Hippocampus the Merpeople domesticated went to incubate their tadfoals. He thought Moony and Padfoot might enjoy chasing them about a bit — without harming them, of course. 

They never find the pond, but they do find an ancient Yew tree so gnarled that it’s grown back around itself and you can’t see where the roots end and the branches begin. The leaf litter beneath it is deep and filled with wonderful smells and tiny creatures to chase. Wormtail has good fun scurrying up and down the curves and loops of the branches. After he’s smelled all the smells and frightened off any rodents smaller than a rat, Padfoot barks, ready to move on. He’s about to run off when he’s broadsided by something hard and heavy and finds himself upside down in the leaf litter.

He growls and scrambles to regain his footing for a split second before he realizes it’s the wolf. Then he works twice as hard to regain his footing. Padfoot wriggles and twists until his paws find the ground. He surges up and clamps his teeth in the thick fur at the base of Moony’s throat. Moony growls and throws his weight against Padfoot. They tumble, both of them head over heels, coming to a stop at the bottom of a slope. Padfoot is on top now and he tries to pin Moony’s bulk with his paws. Moony nips at Padfoot’s muzzle and their teeth clack against each other. Moony seems feistier even than usual and Padfoot thrills at the way they challenge each other. Padfoot springs off Moony and runs for pure joy in circles around the base of the tree. 

Moony bowls Padfoot over again, wanting one more wrestling match before the night is over. Prongs comes over to give them each a poke with his impressive antlers, growing annoyed with their antics and ready to keep exploring. He’s often charged with moving them along when they get too intent on each other — looking back, that’s been happening for years. To give up now would be to concede to Moony and, even though it will happen at some point in the night — Moony will reclaim his dominance and Padfoot will yield — he’s not ready yet. Padfoot leaps onto Moony’s back and out of the corner of his eye, he sees an owl out for a hunt swoop low. 

Even with the noise of the rustling leaves beneath him and Moony’s playful growls and yips in his ears, Padfoot hears Wormtail’s terrified squeaks. He leaps to his feet, barking a warning to Moony. The three of them turn to the sound of the squeaks and the owl swoops again. Wormtail is nowhere to be seen.

Prongs huffs and paws at the ground. Padfoot puts his nose down and snuffles in the detritus on the forest floor. Wormtail was just here and he’s sure he’ll find the scent. He thinks he catches it and barks at Prongs. After he’s gone around the big tree a third time, he realises he’s tracing Wormtail’s playful scampering. Moony is growing restless, not clear why his playmates are no longer playing. He howls and Padfoot’s muscles tense, something deep inside him requiring him to answer. Prongs snorts and paws at the ground again. Padfoot tries to listen for any squeaks or clicks of tiny nails. He hears nothing but the sounds of the forest and Moony’s rumbling and pacing. He tries to concentrate but then Moony trots off, stopping in a clearing and howling and howling. Padfoot’s head jerks back to look — pure reflex and instinct. He cannot resist responding to his pack mate’s call. 

Prongs snorts as derisively as a stag can manage and continues to look for Wormtail. Padfoot hears Moony break into a run and he chases after Moony. One of them, the stag or the dog — have to stay with Moony. That’s their promise. They will always be there to protect him from harming anyone.

He runs, flat out. The breeze ruffles his fur and his paws slap, slap, slap against the forest floor. Moony’s scent comes to him on the wind and he pushes himself. Whenever Moony gets away, he hunts. Whenever he gets away, there’s a chance he’ll eat something and they can’t let that happen. Padfoot sees Moony, his beautiful fur glowing in the moonlight. He turns and the light catches his eyes and they shine, golden like lanterns. Padfoot takes a flying leap and crashes into Moony’s shoulder, knocking him aside. Moony snaps and growls, angered that his hunt’s been interrupted. For a split second, Padfoot worries that Moony is so wound up, he won’t be able to contain him. Then he hears the hard pounding of Prongs’ hooves.

Working in tandem, without any need for signs or signals, Prongs and Padfoot flank Moony and run with him. The moon is dipping lower and Moony will transform soon. The closer they get him to the edge of the forest and the shack, the better. Those first few hours after he changes back, every step costs Remus. 

They reach the edge of the forest and pause. The stag steps into the clearing and Padfoot can feel that his every sense is on alert. If no one is about, they can sometimes get Moony back to the Shack before moonset. The stag signals the all clear and Padfoot nudges Moony’s shoulder. But the wolf has other ideas. He turns and nips at Padfoot and gives a high-pitched yelp and turns back to the forest. Padfoot takes off after him, Prongs on his heels. Moony is sniffing at the ground. He growls and snaps, coming away with something in his teeth. For a horrible moment Padfoot thinks he’s found Wormtail and forgotten he’s a friend. Padfoot hurls himself at Moony. The bulk of the wolf makes Padfoot’s teeth rattle as they collide. Whatever he was clenching in his teeth, Moony drops and he turns on Padfoot, snarling and snapping. Moony could best Padfoot in a fight if he really wanted to, and that knowledge thrills Padfoot. It pushes the scuffles and wrestling matches right to the edge of dangerous. They’re rolling on the ground, each scrabbling for dominance, when Padfoot feels a sharp pain in his haunch. He leaps away from Moony to see Prongs lifting his head, fresh from poking Padfoot in the arse. Padfoot notices the pink and purple fingers of dawn reaching across the sky. 

*******

Padfoot sits in the corner. Trembling.

Somewhere in his mind, he knows he should leave. He also knows the intensity of this transition will be over soon. Nonetheless, his canine nervous system, so much more viscerally empathic than his human one, won’t let him stop trembling. Padfoot whimpers and whines but the wolf is fighting hard to stay and Remus is reasserting himself and the being that is half Sirius’ friend and half Padfoot’s pack leader can’t spare the dog in the corner a glance. And, so Padfoot trembles.

As soon as the wolf is gone and Remus is lying, panting and pale, on the rough floorboards, Sirius transforms and dashes across the room.

“Moony,” Sirius whispers. “Come on. Bed.” 

“Did you stay?” Remus croaks. “Did you watch?” 

“Never mind,” Sirius says, gathering Remus into his arms. “Come on.” He half-drags, half-encourages Remus to the mattress and covers him with a blanket. He pours a cup of the hot chocolate and puts it to Remus’ lips. “Drink.” 

“You stayed,” Remus says, batting at the proffered cup of chocolate. ‘“I’ve told you. I don’t want you to watch.” Remus’ voice is rough and he sounds exhausted and Sirius wishes he’d shut up, drink the damn chocolate, and rest. 

“You’ve said we can’t be here when you turn into the wolf,” Sirius says. It’s partly true at least. “Not when you change back.”

“You’re being deliberately obtuse.” Remus frowns and Sirius has one split second of worry that his plans to kiss Remus all better will be foiled by Remus’ stubbornness. 

“Moony,” Sirius says. He wants to tell him that seeing what he goes through every month has only made him admire him, that seeing his strength and the power of what he endures only makes Sirius fancy the pants off him more. Remus can’t imagine that anyone can be around him at this time of the month, during this, his most private and difficult ordeal, and do anything but pity him — Sirius knows. So, he doesn’t say any of this. He leans closer and he can still feel yesterday’s kisses and he can imagine what it will be like to pull this sleepy, naked Remus into his arms and do it again. 

“Erm, Sirius,” Remus says, glancing behind Sirius at the doorway. 

Sirius hears the sound of a throat clearing and James pops his head in. “Haven’t found him.” He stops and looks back and forth between them. “Er, I’ll go. Yeah, and look for him. Take care of Moony, yeah?” 

For a moment, Sirius is certain that Remus is going to tell James to stay and that Sirius can look for Peter, or maybe that he’s going to tell them both to sod off. James turns and bolts before either of them can say anything. 

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” Remus says. He crosses his arms over his chest but his defensive body language is belied by the fact that he leans back against the pillow and pulls up the blanket. Sirius takes that as a good sign. 

“Don’t be angry with me,” Sirius says. He scoots onto the mattress next to Remus. He’d love to kiss him again. He can’t think of much whenever he’s forced to be still other than those kisses the other day. “Did you want me to go?” 

Remus rolls his eyes and then shakes his head and sighs. 

“I knew you couldn’t resist the pleasure of my company,” says Sirius, turning and letting his forehead fall onto Remus’ shoulder. 

“Oh, shut up,” says Remus, but he brushes Sirius’ knuckles with his thumb. 

That’s as close as he’s going to get to Remus saying out loud that he’s happy Sirius is here with him, so he turns his hand and entwines their fingers together. The touch is so simple and to Sirius, it confirms that the shift in their relationship is real. “I’m happy.” 

“Me too,” says Remus. He’s looking at their clasped hands and he smiles. 

“I’m happy that James went off to find Peter,” says Sirius.

“Me too,” Remus says. 

“Moony, are you going to say anything apart from _me too_?”

“I want to kiss you again,” he says, lifting his head to face Sirius. 

“Me too,” Sirius says. 

“Idiot,” says Remus. “So, do it.” 

Sirius doesn’t close his eyes. He wants to see Remus’ face. Their last kiss was urgent and frantic and brilliant, but this time Sirius wants to take his time. He touches his lips gently to Remus and enjoys the feeling of Remus’ smile against his lips. He can’t help but close his eyes and Remus presses closer. Their mouths move together, slow and soft, and Sirius feels heat spreading through his body. He parts his lips and Remus touches the tip of his tongue to Sirius’. 

“Moony,” Sirius groans. The slick slide of their tongues against each other tingles through his body. He’s never kissed anyone like this. He’s never really kissed anyone at all. Back in fifth year when he was trying to convince himself that he was straight, he kissed a few girls. He’s not sure any of them liked it much either, and how could they when Sirius desperately lacked any enthusiasm. He wraps his arms around Remus and presses their bodies close, moving to kiss Remus’ jaw and neck. 

“Sirius. Wait,” Remus says and the regret in his voice makes Sirius want to shut him up with more kisses. “I have to sleep,” Remus says. “Fuck, I don’t want to, but I’ll be ill…” Remus interrupts himself by kissing Sirius again. 

Sirius wants Remus, to kiss him and touch him and learn how to make each other come. He wants him now but he’s also seen the state of him the days after the full moon if he doesn’t get the rest he needs. 

“I’ll lie down with you,” says Sirius, moving to lie on the mattress and pulling Remus with him. 

“Not sure I’ll sleep,” says Remus, huffing something between a laugh and a groan.

“Should I get under the blanket with you?” Sirius asks, hoping desperately that the answer is yes.

“I definitely won’t sleep,” says Remus even as he lifts the blanket to let Sirius slide in. 

Sirius holds his breath as he moves behind Remus and presses against him, chest to back. Remus is naked under the blankets, as he always is – something that has become more and more torturous for Sirius over the past year or so. 

Moony is so sore and so tired on these mornings and Sirius means to let him sleep. He tells himself that the heat from his body will help Remus’ muscles heal. The truth is, the heat of their bodies next to each other is making Sirius dizzy with want and he’s not sure he can stop himself from pushing Remus into the mattress and rubbing against him. 

Remus sighs and presses back against Sirius. Without thinking, Sirius wraps his arm around Remus and splays his hand on Remus’ belly. Remus exhales, a little shakily, as Sirius nuzzles the back of his neck. Sirius is hard as a rock and he’s going to start shaking himself any moment. 

“Can I?” Sirius asks. His mouth is on Remus’ shoulder and he’s stopped trying to prevent Remus from feeling how hard he is. He lets his body meld to Remus’. A feeling of desire and tenderness so intense he has to hold Remus even tighter to stay in his skin washes over him. “Is this okay?”

“Take off your clothes,” mutters Remus. “I’m naked. Not fair.” 

Sirius can’t get his jumper and shirt off quickly enough. He wriggles out of them and then he yanks down his trousers, stripping off in the bed because he can’t imagine getting out of a bed with a naked, inviting Moony in it. 

“Cold,” he says because now he’s begun to shiver in earnest.

“Do you want me to say I’ll warm you, because that would be stupid,” Remus says.

“None of your cheek or I’ll leave,” Sirius says without the slightest intention of leaving. 

“No you won’t,” Remus says, laughing. 

“You’re right about that,” Sirius says. He presses kisses along the backs of Remus’ shoulders and revels in the feel of the slide of their bare legs against each other. “Wanted to be here for a long time.” 

Remus turns so he can look at Sirius. “Me too,” he says.

Remus is pale with bruises of exhaustion under his eyes. “Rest, Moony,” Sirius says. “I’ll lie here with you.” 

Remus exhales slowly and covers Sirius’ hand, where it rests on his stomach, with his. He urges Sirius’ hand lower. Sirius holds his breath as he feels the flat of Remus’ abdomen. Remus presses back against Sirius and Sirius’ hard cock nudges between Remus’ thighs. Sirius gasps as the sensation rockets through his body. 

Sirius thinks he’ll be the one to pass out, despite Remus looking very much like he might. Remus’ body is like a furnace and Sirius is not shivering any more. He moves his hand lower on Remus’ body and circles his cock with his fingers.

“Okay,” he asks, whispering in Remus’ ear.

“Yes, oh,” Remus says, his voice rough and low. He strokes Remus slowly, up and down, and rocks against him. Their skin stutters against each other, the friction almost too much. Remus reaches for something and shoves a small jar at Sirius. “Here,” he says. “Don’t think this is what she intended, but, well.” 

It’s the pot of ointment Madam Pomfrey gives Remus for his scrapes and bruises and Sirius grows impossibly harder at the thought that Remus’ has used it for this purpose before. He dips his fingers into the slick stuff and smooths it over Remus’ cock.

“Oh, god, Padfoot,” Remus moans and on a lust-driven impulse, Sirius slides his hand between Remus’ thighs and rubs the ointment there. 

“Can I?” Sirius asks as he slides his cock between Remus’ thighs. Remus moans and arches back into Sirius’ touch. 

It’s a little awkward and it takes Sirius a few tries to get the back and forth of his hips in time with the up and down of his hand, but Remus’ gorgeous little moans and the way he rocks his hips so his arse presses against Sirius certainly help. The space between Remus’ thighs gets slicker and slicker and Remus’ cock is so hard in his hand. 

“Fuck,” he exclaims when he feels his cock nudge against Remus’ balls. He’s thought about this, wanked off to thoughts of what it would be like to be with Remus like this, but it was an insipid fake compared to this. This is messier and clumsier and so, so much better than he ever thought it would be. 

“Faster, Padfoot,” Remus murmurs and the sounds of Remus’ voice saying _that_ almost makes Sirius come on the spot. 

“Like this?” Sirius asks. He strokes harder and faster and thrusts against Remus. He can feel Remus’ muscles tense and Remus is arching back, inviting and urging Sirius on, and Sirius knows that sometime, sometime soon, he’ll know what it’s like to be inside him. And the thought and the friction and Remus’ cock in his hand are too much and Sirius cries out as he comes hard between Remus’ thighs. He feels his own hot come on his hand, making Remus’ cock even slicker and he doesn’t let go of Remus as Remus moans, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, please.” 

It’s a minute before Sirius realises that Remus has come and he could kick himself because he was too caught up to notice and it’s something he’s wanted to see for ages. That’s replaced immediately by the thrilling thought that he’s pretty certain he’ll get another chance. 

“Phwah,” Sirius exhales. “That was bloody brilliant.” 

“When can we do it again?” Remus says without missing a beat and Sirius could crow like a rooster. 

“Two minutes?”

“I do actually need to get some sleep or I’ll be useless all day,” Remus says, turning on his back and wrapping an arm around Sirius. 

“I can think of a use for you.” And this is a different feeling entirely — luscious and warm and at least as intimate as what they just did. 

“Shut up,” Remus says, shutting Sirius up by kissing him firmly on the lips. The kiss goes on until Sirius is hard and wanting and Remus smiles and says, “All right, maybe a fifteen minute nap?” 

“S’okay, Moony,” Sirius says, lying back and pulling Remus to lie against him. Remus is always shivery and sore on these mornings and Sirius knows that — as much as Remus would never ask — being held is the best thing for him. “We’ve loads of time. Sleep.” 

Remus turns and kisses Sirius on the corner of his jaw and Sirius hears someone say, “Oh.” It wasn’t him and it didn’t sound like Remus. 

“All right. Right,” says James, standing in the doorway, looking like someone recently stunned him. Sirius feels Remus start to jerk away from him, but he keeps his arms around Remus and looks at James dead in the eye. “I suppose it was inevitable, really,” says James. 

“Prongs,” Remus starts to say, but then he stops. Sirius understands why. There’s really nothing to say. 

“Moony,” James answers and then he shakes his head and squares his shoulders. “I haven’t found Wormtail. I did find Mulciber and Wilkes snooping about. Bloody Snivellus must have said something about us coming out here. I’ll kill him.” James is talking to them, but he’s looking at the ceiling. It almost makes Sirius want to start kissing Remus just to force him to either look or leave. “Before they saw me and I threatened to hex them, I heard them say something about seeing Pettigrew come out of here and sending him scurrying. I’m going to look for him.” 

“I’ll come,” Sirius says. James chokes and Sirius feels his cheeks heat. “I’ll be along in a mo’ to help find Wormtail.” 

“Good,” says James and he turns. He pauses in the door and Sirius braces himself, but then James strides out. 

“Do you mind?” Remus says, nodding in the direction of the doorway that James has vacated. 

Sirius’ stomach clenches at the careful tone of Remus’ voice. “Do you have any idea how happy I am about this?” Sirius says, moving his face within kissing range of Remus’.

“About what, exactly?” Remus says and the careful tone is replaced by a mischievous one. Remus tilts his head and kisses Sirius. 

“That, exactly,” Sirius answers. 

Remus smiles, but he looks so tired that Sirius thinks it may be best that he’s leaving, because if he stayed, he’s pretty certain they’d kiss again and then Sirius might not ever get off this mangy old mattress that, right now, is his favourite spot on earth. 

“I suppose I should go and help find Peter,” Sirius says. “If he was coming out of the tunnel a bit before James came in…that means he probably saw.”

“Yes, yes it does,” Remus says. Sirius is relieved to note that Remus doesn’t sound nervous. Peter might have run off but if James is okay with it, he’ll come around. “What do you reckon — would Peter rather have come in and found us about fifteen minutes ago or be chased off by Mulciber and Wilkes?”

“I’d say it’s a close thing, Moony. A very close thing.” 

*******

It turns out that it’s actually quite difficult to find a small rodent in a large forest.

Sirius had caught James up at the edge of the forest nearly twenty minutes ago now, and they’ve been looking nonstop. Sirius can remember only one time that Peter hid from them for this long and that was in third year when James caught him trying on his new Quidditch gear. 

“He’s a rat,” Sirius says. “If he doesn’t want to be found, he’s not going to be found.” He’s thinking of Remus, lying sleeping in the shack, still naked, still warm, and still finally his. 

Right as the last word is out of Sirius’ mouth, over a dozen owls swoop by, low overhead. They’re flying back in the direction of the owlery from a night’s hunting. It seems that this was the night every bloody owl in the area decided to hunt in the forest. 

James glares at him. 

“And of course, we will not stop looking until we find him,” Sirius amends. 

James lifts a branch that’s fallen across the path. “ _Lumos_. If he had been able to go back into the shack instead of running off, we wouldn’t be looking.” 

“You’re saying this is my fault?”

“It’s you who frightened him off.” James continues to shine the light from his wand in the underbrush. He doesn’t as much as glance at Sirius. 

“Don’t be an arse. He could have said something.” Sirius has an uneasy feeling that this is about more than a temporarily missing rat. “You did.” He knows as soon as he says that it was a stupid thing to say. Peter is not James. 

“You and Moony, huh?” James asks him as they round a corner and one of the ponds they’d explored last night comes into view. This deep in the forest, it’s still almost as dark as night. 

“You knew,” Sirius says, his voice raising loud enough that if Peter is anywhere in the vicinity, he will hear them. “You’re the one who told me to tell him.”

“Right but I thought he’d let you down kindly and you’d move on,” says James. He’s half a step in front of Sirius so Sirius can’t see his face.

“Yeah, well, that’s not what he did.” Sirius isn’t sure what stings more – the feeling that James isn’t as accepting as Sirius thought he was or that he thought Remus would turn him down. 

“So I bloody saw, thanks.”

“James, hang on,” Sirius says, reaching out to touch James’ shoulder. “You’re not bothered about it are you? I thought you said—”

“Not by you fancying blokes. I meant it when I said I wasn’t.” He finally turns to face Sirius and Sirius doesn’t see disgust or hatred or any of the things he feared when he first told James he was gay. He only sees concern. “It’s Moony. It’s us. It’s all so close. It’d be like—”

“Like you and Pete?” Sirius says. He feels his nervous system reset when James snorts with laughter. 

“Shut up. But think about it, Padfoot. What if it doesn’t work out? What if you have an ugly split?” 

“I wouldn’t do that to him,” Sirius says. He cannot imagine, with the feel of Remus’ skin still fresh on his, that there will ever be anything ugly between them. “You know that. I won’t ever do anything to hurt him…again.”

“I’m more worried about him tossing your arse aside after you hack him off one too many times,” James says. 

“Sod off,” Sirius says. “I’m going to make Moony very happy.” 

“Changing the subject before you swoon – I reckon we’re not going to find Wormtail until he wants to be found.” James says. He surveys the clearing they’ve arrived in as if Peter might appear from behind a blade of grass. 

They’ve only just now turned a corner so Sirius — uncharacteristically — resists the temptation to note that he said that ten minutes ago.

“Right, and Remus’ll be wondering where we’ve got to. I should go and see how he is.” Sirius waggles his eyebrows and James makes a strangled sound. 

“I’m not sure I can deal with this,” James says. 

“As if you don’t make me want to lose my breakfast when you go on and on about Lily,” Sirius says. 

“I have no idea what you’re on about,” James says. “Go and check on Moony.”

“No one needs to check on me,” says a voice from the edge of the clearing. “Where the hell has he got to?” 

“Moony,” Sirius and James say at the same time.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” James says, sounding like he’s scolding a child.

“Easy, Madame Pomfrey,” Remus says. He’s a bit peaky but looks otherwise fine. “I couldn’t sleep wondering if you’d found him, and I didn’t think I should leave it to Sirius to explain, well…” 

“Oy, I’m perfectly capable,” Sirius says, not liking the conspiratorial look the two traitors give each other. 

The sun is beginning to filter through some of the leaves as it moves higher in the sky. There’s no more danger of owls, but it’s getting on to breakfast and Sirius is hungry and tired and he’s frankly finished with traipsing around the forest. If Peter is so offended by him and Moony kissing each other, he can stay in the bloody forest.

“James,” Remus says in that way he has of making it clear he expects the worst and he can handle it. “I have to ask —”

“Moony, if you want to carry on with that idiot, well, I always thought you were cleverer than that,” James says, shrugging.

Remus sags a bit with apparent relief. “Thanks,” he says and James waves him off. “Let’s find Wormtail and then we can all go and eat. I’m ravenous.” 

Remus is exhausted and he should be resting, but both James and Sirius know better than to try and talk Remus out of something when he has that look on his face. 

“We could try the reverse Transfiguration spell,” Sirius suggests. “That might be quickest at this point.” 

“What if he’s inside a tree or something? Honestly, Padfoot,” James says. “Wormtail,” he shouts into the forest. The trees and the soft forest floor dampen the sound and it falls flat. 

Sirius considers transforming. As Padfoot he’d be able to hear Wormtail’s tiny feet in the leaf litter. He’s still not convinced the reverse transfiguration spell wasn’t a good idea. Sirius is tired and he’s hungry and if Peter really needs to have a fit because he and Remus were snogging – well a bit more than snogging, anyway – then he’s welcome to stay in the forest all day. He’s about to say just that when Wormtail steps out from behind a tree and transforms. There are leaves in his hair and a twig sticking out of his collar. 

“Hullo,” he says, sounding sheepish. 

“Wormtail,” James and Remus say together. 

“You all right, mate?” James asks, gently like he’s talking to an injured Kneazle. 

“Yeah, think so,” says Peter. He shoots a nervous glance at Remus. 

And then Sirius realizes something. Peter took longer to forgive Sirius for sending Snivellus Moony’s way last year than Remus did. He’s probably worried about Remus and sure Sirius is going to hurt him. And despite himself, he feels a little bit of warmth toward the little rat. 

“Peter,” Sirius says. “What you saw, well, it’s not what you think.”

“It isn’t?” Remus says, frowning at Sirius. 

“Well, it is, but don’t do a nut, right? It’s not a big deal,” Sirius says. He glances at Remus who has raised one eyebrow, indicating that it’s still an open question whether or not he’ll hex Sirius in his sleep. “This isn’t coming out right.” 

“I was coming out of the shack and I ran into Mulciber and Wilkes. They said things about you,” Peter says, glancing at Remus and Sirius. “Things even I didn’t know.” 

“What? What did they say? How do they know?” Sirius snaps. He might not care what people think and he might be willing to defend Moony’s honour to the death, but that doesn’t mean he wants some of the worst people in school talking about him and Moony, especially when it’s all this new. 

“Yeah,” says James. “What did they say? I’ll make them wish they had run into Moony last night.”

“Prongs,” Remus says. “We’re leaving school soon enough. It doesn’t matter. Let it go.” 

“Not in my nature,” says James, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Nor mine,” adds Sirius. 

“You’ll only make it worse,” Remus says. “If we leave it, then they can gossip all they want and people will believe them or not.”

“I still want to know how they know,” Sirius said. He’s certain the two of them couldn’t get all the way into the shack, so the only way they know if is Peter was so traumatized by seeing him with his hand between Remus’ legs that he ran out of the tunnel and blabbed to the first people he saw. No wonder he was hiding in the forest. Sirius is going to kill him. He is, at least, until Peter stammers. 

“They knew about some secret organization that Dumbledore is starting. They thought you were in it. They said it’s for half-bloods and blood traitors, and anyone who joins is going to be the first to die. They said to pass it along to you, Remus.” 

“Hang on,” Remus says. “That’s why you ran off? How do they know about that?” 

“I thought they were going to hex me right there when I said they were full of it,” says Peter. “They must be gone by now.” He glances nervously in the direction of the shack and Sirius can still see the rat he so recently was. 

“Wait, so, you didn’t go into the shack?” Sirius asks. “And what are you talking about, Moony?” 

“No, they were going out to the forest for some reason and I didn’t want to lead them to Moony,” Peter says, shooting Sirius a nervous glance. Sirius feels a bit deflated. Here he’s been fantasizing about hexing Peter for the past hour or so and he actually did the honourable thing. 

“Good lad,” James says. “And yeah, what are you talking about, Moony?” 

“Last week, Dumbledore pulled me aside and told me about just what they said – an organization that’s forming to fight Voldemort. He said he’d like me to join after school, if I want. I said I would and he made me promise not to tell you all yet.” 

“Here, I’m Head Boy,” James says indignantly. “Why didn’t he tell me?” 

“He’s going to tell each of you,” Remus says. “I don’t reckon he’s doing it in order of seniority.”

Both Peter and Remus look a little shaken. James looks intrigued. Sirius reckons there’s plenty of time to worry about a secret organization, how those weasels knew about it, and the fact that he and Remus are now going to have to tell Peter about them. 

“Can we please go and get breakfast now?” Sirius asks, deciding to think for the moment about nothing other than sausages and tea and then his warm bed after. 

*******

Sirius takes his usual spot on the long bench at Gryffindor table. It occurs to him that, very soon, it will no longer be his usual spot and will become someone else’s. 

“Odd, isn’t it?” Sirius asks. 

Remus frowns at him and James says, “You’re odd.”

“It is odd,” says Peter. “Last night at this table.” 

Sirius isn’t certain how he feels about the fact that Peter is the only one who understood him. He decides to go with it. “Exactly. Hard to imagine this place without us.” 

“I can imagine it quite clearly, Mr Black,” says a stern voice from behind him. Professor McGonagall leans close and glares at each of them in turn. “Was it really necessary to torment poor Mr Filch one last time?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” says James. 

“Butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth, Mr Potter, would it?” she says. “If I could prove it was you, I would take points, even if it meant losing the cup. But as I can’t, I see we’re in first place. Do try to get through the feast without any new calamities.” 

She turns on her heel and strides away. 

“Whatever was she talking about, Mr Prongs?” Peter asks.

“Haven’t the slightest, Mr Wormtail,” James answers. “Mr Padfoot?” 

“Neither have I, Moony?”

“All I have to add is that she cannot say we aren’t capable of NEWT level Charms work,” says Remus, filling up his goblet with pumpkin juice. 

Sirius usually can’t wait for the Dumbledore’s end of year speech to be over. This year, he finds himself wanting to memorise every word. Silence falls over the Great Hall as Dumbledore stands up at the head table. 

“Ladies and gentlemen. Tonight is the last night of the school year and this is the end of year feast. Now that we all know where we are, I have a few notes.” 

“Not one of his most inspiring beginnings,” Remus whispers into Sirius’ ear. The soft warmth of Remus’ breath tickles Sirius’ ear and he’s immediately hard. He would have thought getting off with Moony might have eased the constant state of arousal, but it seems to have made it worse. 

“Mr Filch would like to note that if he catches the culprits who charmed his office door to sing ‘The Girl from Impanema’ each time it is opened or closed, they will live to rue the day. Moving on, for many of you, this is the beginning of a new chapter in your lives. And I believe it might be for all of us. There are people, some of my colleagues including, who think you are too young to worry about events outside these walls. I however, believe it is my job to prepare you for life and the many challenges to come. I fear the time is nigh where we will all have choices to make — to differing degrees of course, and not everyone’s path will be the same. Some will believe they can avoid making a choice but I would caution you that in times of peril, inaction is as much a decision as action.” 

Many in the room look somewhere between confused and unsettled and there’s an uneasy rumbling of voices. Sirius glances at his friends. They are all wearing the same determined expression and Sirius feels sure they’ll be all right. 

“And that, as they say, is enough of that. We have an excellent feast ahead with more food than we can possibly eat, awards and cups to bestow, and — I’m sorry Mr Filch, but it’s inevitable — final bits of mischief to be had. Enjoy!”

The feast is magnificent and Sirius is certain Professor McGonagall sheds at least one tear when Gryffindor is awarded the cup. She definitely knocks into Professor Slughorn when she moves along the staff table to shake Dumbledore’s hand. Overall, it’s the best feast Sirius remembers and no one argues with him when he says so. In fact, with Remus’ thigh pressed warmly against his under the table, how happy James and Lily look together, and the expressions on the Slytherins faces when James goes up to help McGonagall accept the cup, Sirius isn’t sure he remembers being this happy — and the only mischief he’s contemplating is of the private sort with Remus.

There’s the usual end of year party in the common room. Sirius notes that the sixth years have supplied plenty of food and drink — another sign that it’s their time to move along. He’s already feeling apart and suddenly all he wants is to spend his last night here in the dormitory that’s been his home all these years, with his friends. He catches James’ eye and James nods.

In the dormitory, they pass around a bottle of Firewhisky and once they start talking about their years here, time passes until it’s well after midnight and Peter is nodding into his cup. 

Sirius wakes in the middle of the night. The moon, one night off the full, illuminates the dormitory. Sirius knows that Remus isn’t there the same way he’d know if a lamp that was usually lit had gone out. He slips out of bed and pads, barefoot over to Remus’ bed. The covers are pulled back and the bed is indeed empty. Peter and James are both snoring. Sirius wonders what it will be like to sleep in a quiet room every night. 

If Remus isn’t in bed the night after the full moon, there’s one place he’s gone. Sirius jogs down the stairs and across the common room. A couple of sixth years snogging by the fire spring apart and then, seeing who it is, resume. 

“Don’t mind me,” squawks the Fat Lady, straightening her night cap as Sirius pushes the portrait closed on his way out. “I suppose you’ll be waking me again in ten minutes, after you’ve pilfered a month’s supply of tarts from the kitchen.” 

“I beg your pardon, Madame,” Sirius says, bowing low. “If all goes well, I won’t be disturbing you for some time.” 

Sirius runs along the empty hallways, wishing he still had the map so he could be sure he’s going in the right direction. He doesn’t need it, though — he knows. 

Remus is leaning against the stone of the Astronomy Tower. 

“Hello,” says Sirius, coming right up behind Remus. 

“Sorry if I woke you,” Remus says. 

“Why _didn’t_ you wake me?” Sirius puts his hand on Remus’ hip. 

“You looked so pretty in your sleep,” Remus says, and Sirius can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Arse,” says Sirius. “You’re the pretty one.” 

“You’re the arse,” says Remus, turning around. “I don’t think I can sleep if it’s not in the same room with you.” 

“Then don’t,” says Sirius. 

“Don’t sleep?” 

“And people think you’re clever.” Sirius says. He feels a grin spread on his lips. Remus has insisted all year that he’s going back to his father’s house, despite Sirius’ many attempts to get him to come and live with him. Remus knows what he’s asking and the fact that he’s playing with him, stalling for time, means there’s a chance the answer is yes. “Don’t sleep _without_ me.” 

“That’s what I’m saying. I don’t sleep without you.” 

“So, sleep with me,” Sirius says. 

“That will be hard when you’re in London and I’m in Yorkshire.” 

Sirius grabs the front of Remus’ robes and pulls him close. Remus starts to smile just as Sirius presses his lips against Remus’ in a hard, quick kiss. “Move in with me. Then we can wake up together like we did in the shack every morning.” 

“With me shivering and in pain?”

“Not the part I meant.”

“I know, Padfoot,” says Remus. “I — yes, all right. I will.” 

“Really? You’re not joking?” 

“Why are you so surprised? We’ve lived together since we were eleven,” says Remus. He’s grinning from ear to ear and Sirius is wearing a similar expression. 

“If I had known that all I had to do was snog you to get you to agree, I would have done it months ago,” Sirius says. He wraps his arms around Remus’ waist and presses his body against Remus’. 

“If I had known you were going to snog me ever, I would have agreed months ago,” Remus says, running his hands up and down Sirius’ back, making him shiver. “Don’t you know, Padfoot? I couldn’t live with you because I wouldn’t have been able to stand it — at least here, Peter and James are always about. I’ve kept control of myself. If we lived alone, I wasn’t sure what I’d do.”

Remus’ hands move lower, curving over Sirius’ arse. Sirius is giddy with the combination of desire and delight rolling through him in waves. It occurs to him that he might be in for spending a majority of his time in a state of arousal in the coming months. 

“Are you saying that you’re going to move in with me _and_ you’re not going to be able to keep your hands off me?” Sirius asks, feeling bubbles of laughter in his throat. 

“I think that’s what I’m saying.” Remus threads his fingers through Sirius’ hair. “Merlin, I love your hair,” he says. Sirius has never cared before if someone liked his hair, but this compliment, he feels to his toes. 

Before Sirius can say more, Remus kisses him. Sirius kisses back, putting every bit of longing and hope into that kiss. He wants Remus to feel it, to feel how happy he is and how much Sirius wants him. They move together and Sirius thinks again that, now that he knows what it’s like to touch Remus, he can never go a day again without it. He wants to taste every inch of his body, be inside him, and learn what it feels like to have Remus inside him. 

Remus pulls back from the kiss and says, “I don’t want to go back to the dormitory just yet.” He conjures a blanket and wraps it around them. 

“You’re very clever, Moony,” Sirius says, moulding his body against Remus’. “We’ve hours until the others are up.” 

In twenty-four hours, he’s gone from complete uncertainty to having his plan for what’s next set. He’s going to join the Order of the Phoenix, along with James and Lily, Peter. And Remus. He’s going to move into his own home, permanently, and he’s going to live _and sleep_ there with Remus. And the moon is just gone full and Remus is warm and eager in his arms.


End file.
